


A Man's Gotta Eat

by go_south



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: : (, Food, Gross foods, Poor Kurtis, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 11:52:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8205755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/go_south/pseuds/go_south
Summary: Poor Kurtis....a man's gotta eat





	

**Author's Note:**

> Short drabble about Kurtis slowly coming to terms living in the wasteland  
> GONNA WRITE MORE ABOUT MY SS DW

It shouldn’t have been a surprise that a grown man couldn’t survive off of two hundred year old boxes of instamash, sugar bombs, and potato crisps while surviving in a wasteland where everything wanted to kill you. The minute Kurtis saw a group of scavengers roasting a dripping bloodbug over a spit, he knew it was only a matter of time. But he wasn’t one to give in so easily, even if it meant going to sleep on a stomach full of steak packed with ancient gravy and waking up early the next morning only to squat behind a bush for an agonizing thirty minutes.

And when his third week rolled by after he emerged from the ice, did he finally give in.

Hunger was clawing at his stomach. Kurtis hadn’t eaten anything in three days–his stomach fought back against whatever pre-war food he tried eating. He needed fresh food, mutated or not.

Tears crept down his face as bile rose in his throat, his teeth crunching into the outershell of an overcooked radroach. He gagged immediately at the taste–a putrid almost sour tasting juice flooded his mouth when his teeth sunk into the soft interior flesh and it took everything in his being to not vomit for the eighth time that day. Bits of yellowish fluid dribbled down his chin while he tried to swallow the mouthful. Dogmeat pawed at his knee, whining as Kurtis barely managed to force it down, letting out a harsh sob when it dropped hard into his stomach.

Kurtis wanted a greasy burger dripping with ketchup and grease and pickles, a roasted chicken flavored with old bay seasoning and lemon, and even, he felt fresh tears building, a fresh fucking granny smith apple.

A wet tongue licked against his tear-stained cheek. Dogmeat let out another low wine, trying to shove his head into the crook of Kurtis's arm and the man couldn’t help but tuck his head between his knees and curl into a ball against the shanty walls of the Starlight Drive In storage room. He let out a lungful of wet air, “How the fuck am I supposed to make it out here, boy?" The heels of his hands pressed against his red-rimmed eyes, "I want to wake up boy, I want to wake up please. PLEASE." 

For only the second time since he crawled out into the wasteland, Kurtis cried.


End file.
